it comes upon a white wake morn

it comes upon a white wake morn,
and the sun never seems to shine.
the fevers of sleep never seem to shake
and harken now the living dead.

it feels no pain, nor does it hurt,
and nothing more excepting hate
where once had been just mournful cries
a sinner now resides

come again now,
all you weak and heavy laden
and turn now to Christ,
in his bosom find you respite


God please, why did you make me this way? It is tormenting just to face another day, and my strength is really waning. I feel so tired every single day. Every single day. My head is weary, my heart is dead and there is nothing left to motivate me. I am really so tired, and I know I need you now, more than ever. God encourage me, and give me strength to live the way you would want me to, for I am weak but in you I am strong.